Old Flame
by Strange Thoughts Over Tea
Summary: The past 6 years have been less than kind to Emmy Altava. 6 years of unrelenting nightmares, loneliness, and bitterness. Yes, it has been 6 long years since she last saw the Professor. She doesn't want to see him again- she's independent. She's fine without him. But it is the only way. Emmy/Layton, probably some Layton/Claire. I'm better at writing stories than I am summaries!


**A/N: Hey guys! I wrote this one about… November last year? Anyway, I never got around to posting it, eventually forgot it existed and then found it again a few days ago while sorting documents on my computer. **

**This story will probably be Emmy/Layton and/or Claire/Layton. I haven't really sussed out what is going to happen yet! Though do be aware that the rating might change. **

_**Disclaimer: **_**I don't own much besides some games, a tumblr or two and a computer. Definitely not the Professor Layton franchise, by any means.**

**Oh well. I can dream. Onwards with the story!**

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_Dear Professor,_

_How are you? It has been quite a while since we last spoke. I do hope you can forgive me if this letter comes as the surprise I imagine it to be- 6 years is a long time, after all. _

_I've seen you in the paper- it appears that trouble and adventure has a way of finding you (or perhaps you have a way of finding trouble) just as much as ever. If the articles prove correct, you have an adopted daughter now. I can imagine that you treat her well- you did always have a way with Luke._

_What happened to the little one, anyway? He just disappeared from the stories- while they did never include him in the articles much, he also disappeared from the photographs. He also stopped replying to my letters. I do hope he is safe and well, wherever he may be. Even if he was Apprentice Number Two._

_No doubt you are wondering why I am contacting you after all these years, let alone the circumstances upon which we parted. Now that I'm writing this, I may as well say it straight- you know me. I have never been one to 'beat around the bush'._

_I am sending this to you because it has been far too long, Professor. What happened that day hasn't let me be at peace for any more than a month for the past 6 years, and I am simply not interested in attempting to put off the inevitable any longer. I would like to meet you again, face to face._

_I will be back in London on the 16__th __of this month- should you decide to see me, I will be at the café on Gable st at 2:00pm sharp. I trust you remember the spot- it was you who first introduced me to it, after all. I hope to see you there._

_Sincerely,_

_Emmy Altava_

I dropped the pen I was using and grudgingly glared at the collection of crumpled letters strewn across the desk. As embarrassing as it was to admit, that had taken far too long to write.

I stared out the window of my hotel room and scolded myself.

_It wasn't supposed to be this hard! I waited this long just so I would be ready for this! _

Irritated, I hastily folded the letter in half and shoved it into an envelope, nicking my finger on a sharp edge of the paper in the process. Slowly, blood began to peep out from my under my skin. I clenched my hands into tight fists, the situation beginning to finally catch up with me. _He_ should be the one contacting me! Not me him- it is absurd! How dare _he_ and his _oh so precious_ top hat not even go so far as to apologise once over the past 6 years! After all that happe-

_Goddammit Altava! Pull yourself together! A lady should always maintain full composure no matter the circumstances- you know this!_

Sighing, I relaxed my hands and placed the letter down, going to find a bandage and putting the kettle on in the process. A good cup of tea would surely help me organise my thoughts.

As much as I didn't want to see him again, it really was unavoidable. I had tried my hardest to move on- from travelling the globe on pointless adventures to therapy, medication and (attempting) to take up the oboe, I had tried so hard to re-invent myself and stop those goddamn nightmares. Hell, I had even considered adopting at one point, but then the professor had to go and take even that from me. I reasoned that he had no way of knowing that I had wanted to adopt, but him adopting Flora upset me nonetheless.

It felt like everything I tried to do he was always one step ahead- always that little bit closer. It was something that annoyed me to no end- to think I used to consider it endearing. How times have changed.

The years reflecting had done nothing but make me bitter, and I knew that. But after what had happened, it was to be expected.

Now screeching, the kettle pulled me out of my thoughts. That was one thing I could never go without, no matter what- tea. I had the Professor to blame for that, as I had originally been a coffee fiend before I met him.

Pouring the water into my cup, I retrieved a teabag, sighing at the brand on the label. It was the only one the budget hotel had, and certainly wasn't up there with the best. I added spoon upon spoon of sugar in the hopes of drowning out the burnt taste of the tea.

Sitting back down, I wondered if he ever thought about me. I doubted that he had, no matter what he used to think of me. Who was Emmy Altava to a celebrity like him? Not very much, based on his lack of contact over the years.

I was bitter. I was angry. I was, in one word, lonely. Lonely because while I surrounded myself with people, I never could bring myself to really get to know them, to become close_._ Perhaps in the hope of the Professor realising his mistake and getting back in contact. That's what my therapist said, anyway. I wasn't too sure.

All I knew was that I had been having nightmares for the past 6 years _every single_ _night_ and just wanted to be able to sleep without the constant fear I would wake up sobbing into my pillow.

I was a strong, independent woman. But my behaviours said otherwise.

All I could do is hope that meeting with him would allow me to sleep again- my lack of rest was dramatically illustrated to everyone I met, what with those wretched dark circles shadowing my eyes.

I decided that the tea had cooled enough and took a sip from the cup. Spluttering, I decided that no amount of sugar could cure this terrible blend. I poured it down the sink and decided to try my hand at sleeping.

I would post the letter in the morning.

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**A/N: Likey? No likey? Review and let me know? I have no idea where this story will go, so any ideas or opinions so far are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!**


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